Floating along

 Yesterday I got thoroughly drugged up for my biopsy.  It wasn't general anesthesia so I could still breathe on my own, but I was out of it!

I felt it a bit, but not too much.  I don't remember going back to Adam, but there I was.  

I was lying there for a while and then I encouraged him to switch with Mark, who was ready to switch.

It is a really big work week for Adam.  Poor guy.  He has major things happening in his life besides me.  Mark came and they released me.  

I felt very woozy.  I tried to do a little school work on my computer.  I moved my book over by me so I could read, but I mostly half slept, half didn't.  

I hate that feeling.

My incision started to hurt and I remembered that they had given me a paper at the hospital about taking care of myself.  I remembered that there had been complicated instructions about taking Tylenol, but I didn't remember what they were.  I was too tired to go get the paper and I considered texting Mark and having him bring me the paper, but I decided in the end to just take two Tylenol and figure out the complicated instructions later.

I had a hair appointment that I didn't want to miss so Mark drove me to it.  Before we left, I looked at the paper to see the instructions.  It made me laugh.

They were not complicated at all.  They are what is on every bottle of Tylenol.  

This is why we don't do drugs, kids.

I got my hair chopped because my classroom is hot and I was tired of my hair.  

Another day in the books, I tried to sleep, but I think last night could be in my personal hall of fame of worst nights.  I had bad dreams about my bones cracking and dreams about being left behind.  I was stressed about feeling ill prepared for school and stressed about not feeling up to school and stressed about not sleeping because what is my actual problem when the thing I most need is sleep?!?

Ugh.

Looking at my photo of my discharge paper, I wonder if the first day of school requires important choices, alertness or balance....

I won't sign any legal papers.

I did it

 One day down.

Yesterday was back to school night.  We had professional development meetings all day.  Somewhere during the day, the hospital called me about my bone marrow biopsy (which is today).  I thought I would just get it done then head to work to continue getting ready for the first day.  I thought wrong.

They told me that I needed to fast because I would be sedated (not general anesthesia, but something).  I need to stay for two hours for observation and then have someone drive me home.

I said, "So I thought I would go to work after...."

She said, "Oh, no.  You can't.  You can go to work the next day."

My mind started spinning and went into superdrive.  I had stepped out of the meeting to take the call and when I was walking back, I saw Matt.  I told him and he said, "OK.  No problem.  I'm not worried about that."

I said, "I am."

He said, "I don't mean I'm not worried about your health.  I'm not worried about you being gone tomorrow."

That was what I was talking about too.

I went and grabbed stuff from my room to work on during the meeting and I majorly triaged what needed to be accomplished and what didn't.

Let's just say nothing is very cutesy.

But I don't really like cutesy anyway.

My team offered to help, but I know how busy they are.  They shared a project for the first day that I handed off to Jamie to prep for me.  (Which she did with lightning speed.). 

They all said to text them if I thought of something today I needed them to do.

I can't imagine doing this without the wonderful people I work with.

It was 83 degrees in my classroom by the time we wrapped up back to school night.  I felt awful.  I was dizzy and weak and...hot.  

Right before it started, I prayed and just asked for all the help I could get to make it through the night.  I needed energy and I didn't have any.

My prayer was answered.  

One day at a time.

I met my students and their parents and they are adorable.  I especially loved seeing the little brothers and little sisters of former students who are now in my class.  I have the third brother in one family and they are maybe the best family in the world.  I loved having the first two boys as students.  They are incredibly kind and loving to each other.  They work hard and are just good.  Their parents don't speak English.  Having the oldest son translate, the mother told me her concerns about the current student and asked me to please send home anything she could do to help him at home.  She looked at me so hopefully that I just wanted to hug her.

I will do my best!

I will try so hard!

When it was over and I finally got to my car, I called Adam and burst into tears.  Because I want to try my best, but what if my best is kind of lame?  What if I can't give everything I want to these sweet children?

Adam was on his way to meet with someone in his bishop capacity, but I went home to Mark.  He hugged me and we chatted.  He told me all the same things Adam had about how my best was good enough.  He said, "You work really hard and can accomplish a lot.  Sometimes you will be tired though and that is because your body needs you to rest.  So you can't just power through."

I said, "But that puts a burden on you and your dad."

He said, "Should I apologize for having diabetes?  Or celiac? Because that puts a burden on you."

That kid!

I had no idea when he moved back home how much I would need him.  He knows what to say and gives really good hugs too.

I slept for 10 hours and I guess today will be a resting sort of day as well.  I will keep praying and keep trusting that I can make it through these days.  One at a time. 

I know how much I have to be grateful for.  Besides all the love and support from near and far, I had a red pen leak yesterday and I had red ink all over both hands and my chin (Miriam told me) but it did not get on the white blouse I was wearing.

Miracle.

Magic

 Yesterday during read aloud time, which is the last part of the day, I started reading The Mouse and the Motorcycle to my class.  They keep wanting the next Humphrey book, and I like those, but I told them it was my turn to pick and I went straight to my Beverly Cleary shelf.

I had about two sentences of the first chapter to go when the bell rang.  "Teacher!" they gasped.  "Why didn't you tell us?!?" and "You need to put the digital clock back!"

(I took away the digital clock to force them to use the analog clock.)

The boy whose job it is this week, sprinted from the room to go get the lunch cart (where the home lunch bags are).  They scrambled to stack their chairs and find their backpacks, scolding me the whole time.  A girl started running around in tight circles.  She repeated, "The lunch cart. The lunch cart."

I told her he already went to get it and would be back soon.

Their absolute panicked pandemonium was kind of comical.

But none of us had known or cared what time it was when I was reading.

Because Beverly Cleary is magical.

A day in the life

Every morning lately that I've walked into my classroom, it has been a toasty 64 degrees.  It warms up to 67 by the time I am going home.

Friends, that is cold.

I complained before school started that my classroom was 84 degrees.  The bottom line is, we have no control over any of it.  The HVAC does what the HVAC wants.

One of my students told me a dramatic tale of a car crash his family was involved in on Saturday.  He said it happened by Chick-fil-a and the nice people there gave them food.  His mom was injured.  I didn't like that one bit.  I worry about my students enough without adding possible car crashes to the list.

A student, whose brother just started 7th grade, dropped the bombshell that students in junior high do NOT have recess.  That was shocking and unbelievable.   They wanted to know how many years were in junior high and high school.  Just how long would they have to survive without recess anyway?

My students were working on their computers and I called a group of students back to my desk for extra practice on some math.  I was head down, focused on my small group and a girl across the room said, "Um...teacher?"  She pointed to a boy next to her who I had never seen before.  He was sitting at a student's desk (the owner of the desk was at my table) and merrily tapping on the computer. I walked over and realized the stowaway was a kindergartner.  I said, "Who is your teacher?"  He told me.  I said, "Do you know where your classroom is?"

He said, "Yep!" and he skedaddled out of the room.  I followed him down the hall and watched him go into his kindergarten class.

I told a few other teachers about it and everyone knew which student I was talking about.  I am guessing he is the Ramona Quimby of the school.

One of our vocabulary words was discovery, so we laughed about the discovery of a kindergartner we had made earlier.  Another vocabulary word was education.  We talked about learning and the difference between just going to school and getting educated.  I mentioned college because a lot of them don't have anyone in their lives talking to them about college.  One of the girls raised her hand and asked softly, "Did your kids go to college?"

I told her that Braeden and Mark are still in college, but Emma graduated.  She thought a moment and raised her hand again, "Who paid for college?  You or your children?"

An 8 year old worried about paying for college.  I explained about scholarships and grants and I told them that it might take some figuring out, but they could all pay for college somehow.

A girl spilled her water bottle.  As in water was spreading out all over the desk.  She raised her hand to tell me.  It doesn't occur to them to get up and get some paper towels and be quick about it when they spill some water or need to throw up.  When they just want to pop out of their seat for no good reason, they have zero qualms.

We got paper towels and mopped up the spill.  She said her pants were wet.  They were barely wet on one side.  I said, "Good news, we are in a desert and they will dry fast."

A few minutes later she raised her hand to tell me they hadn't dried yet.

Awhile later, I got the same report.

After still longer, she raised her hand to tell me her pants were dry.

It is an exciting time, I'll tell you.

When I opened up the door to let my class in from lunch recess, one of my very hardest students from last year ran up and threw his arms around my waist.  

When they go home in the afternoon, some of them want to hug me, they all want to say good-bye.

See you tomorrow Teacher!  Good-bye!

It's not a bad life.

First Day!

Today is the day!  I'm excited and not nervous which is a nice feeling.  I have plans and I have such cute students!  I'm looking forward to getting to know them.

The AC is mostly better.  It was cool in the morning yesterday and heated up as the afternoon wore on, but before it was hot in the morning and heated up as the afternoon wore on, so this is better.

I am staging a one woman campaign to get an ELMO projector thing (technical term, I know) for my classroom.  Every other classroom in the building has one.  I have been harassing both Matt and Riley.  Sometimes at the same time.  They finally told me  it is in the reliably unreliable electrician's hands.  I asked what I could do to nag him.  I said, "I'm really good at nagging." (I could have given our children's names as references.)

Matt wouldn't give me any help that way though because he has a whole line up of projects for said electrician and doesn't want me to jump the line.

Bureaucracy is alive and well.

Riley refused to believe I didn't have outlets on my fake walls.  I didn't think any of the fake walls had outlets.  He insisted they did.  He pulled everything away from my walls to check for outlets.  I said, "I promise I don't have outlets!"

Then he made me go with him to the 4th grade classrooms to see that they have outlets on their fake walls.  Sure enough.  My classroom is the only one that doesn't.  

I keep getting confirmation that I have the worst classroom in the building.

So that's fun.

Yesterday a skittish little girl and her mother came to my classroom.  The mother said, "They told us we can't interrupt you, but we couldn't make it last night.  Can she just look at the classroom?"

I assured them they could indeed interrupt me.  (What am I doing anyway besides arguing with Riley and labeling everything that is holding still long enough?)

I showed her where her desk is and where she lines up in the morning.  While I talked to her she timidly pranced from side to side.  Every time I'd ask a question, her little voice would falter because she was so nervous.  I told her that I'd taught her brother.  Her other brother was in my classroom a lot last year as a third grader too.  She said, "The boys said you have pennies and...a Skittle machine."

I do!  I told her that the kids at Back to School Night didn't get one, but I'd give her a penny.  I showed her how the machine worked and she was thrilled.  Maybe a little less scared.

Candy will do that.  

And I will keep buying more.

Janelle stopped by with gifts and it was so good to see her and I don't know how I'm supposed to do this without her.  

I miss her, but I love my little school and I love being a teacher and Back to School is my love language.

3rd grade versions

3rd grade version of dressing for the job you want, instead of the job you have:

"I wore this t-shirt and shorts because the weather is supposed to be warmer this time of year." 

(OK, but it's not....)

3rd grade version of making someone feel loved:

Me: We're going to make cards for Mrs. Conlin (our student teacher) because she is graduating and this is her last day.

Student:  Who's Mrs. Conlin?!?

3rd grade version of listening:

All of them, all of the time, after I already said it three times:  What are we doing?

3rd grade version of going with the flow: 

"Wait, what?!?  You did NOT tell us this was going to happen!"

3rd grade version of lining up:

I don't even know how to describe it.  It's not good.

I'll wait.

3rd grade version of mercenaries:

ALL year I've been trying to get them to write an opinion paragraph.  State their opinion, list three reasons (with transitions!), restate their opinion.  That is all.  It has been such a struggle.  Yesterday I offered a penny (for the Skittle machine) to anyone who could do it. 

Guess who can suddenly write opinion paragraphs?

Everyone.

It was survived

Monday night Adam and I went to our YEN (Young Empty Nesters) group.  We're only young compared to the OG Empty Nesters group in the ward who are our parents' age.

I talked about Valentine's Day at school and some of my friends didn't seem to believe me that it was worse than Halloween.  I don't know why it is, but it is.

Some kids come in with elaborate Valentine's Day boxes and some kids...don't.  They bring Valentines with candy or toys attached, or they...don't.  I was hustling to hand out bags of candy or boxes of Valentines to students who hadn't brought any, depending on what they wanted.  I had gift bags to be their receptacle for receiving Valentines if they didn't have one.

The day was amped up from the beginning.  We had hyper and excited children and boys wrestling and everyone wondering when the party was and when they got the candy.  One girl came in chewing gum and said she had brought blow pops and had "accidentally" eaten one.  I said, "Spit out the gum."

Another girl gave me this:

She hugged me and said, with her adorable lisp, "Teacher, do you know why I got you a red dragon?  Because your favorite color is red."

If that doesn't melt your heart on a frantic frozen February day, I don't know what would.

It was finally time for the party and we had a few parents there to help and we had stations where they rotated and played games.  I was running a bingo game.  Every single student was yelling.  Yelling.  No reason, just excited.

They passed out Valentines at the end.  More yelling.  Most of them didn't have names of who they were for, but stood in the middle of the chaos yelling, "Who didn't get one from me?"

One boy brought lip shaped kazoos, which begs the question, "Does your mother HATE me?!?"

Another girl, who does everything super slowly (think the sloths on Zootopia) brought a box of unopened Valentines.  She needed help opening them.  Then she spread them out, right in the middle of everyone passing out Valentines, and slowly started writing names on them and delivering them.  She came up to me after a few minutes and said she needed help.  I said, "Who have you given them to so far?"

She didn't know.

I quickly wrote names on the cards and maybe people got doubles, but I doubt anyone noticed.  Everyone was eating candy and yelling and needing help or a bag to put their stuff in or tape to close up their fun dip so they could take it home.

It was chaos and anarchy, just add kazoos.

They have specialties last thing in the day and for the safety and well being of the computer teacher, I had them run to the fence and back before going to computers.  They said, "But we need coats..."

I said, "No coats, just run!"

(No coats helped them all hurry along.)

They came in panting and we lined up and managed to walk fairly quietly down the hall.  

Janelle came in and found me halfway through computers.  I was sitting in a catatonic state.  She said, "Are you hiding in here?"

I said, "Yes, yes I am."

Big feelings

There is a bill in Utah that has passed the house and is moving to the state senate.  

It is about school choice and would give $8000 to students to use for a private school.  The state currently spends $4000 per student for public school.  It is a bill that bizarrely couples a raise for teachers with school choice.  (The coupling is there to make it more palatable.)

Let's imagine a scenario.  I don't like the library or want to use it, I'd rather get my books on Amazon.  The library never has the books available that I want.  The hold list is interminable.

So would we pass a bill that people who don't want to use the library (for valid reasons) would get a stipend to use at Amazon?  I could get the exact books I want!  Fast!  

The libraries would suffer if we take the money away to give to the people who want their books from Amazon, but so be it.

That sounds crazy, right?

Here are some things that one of the lobbyist/supporters of the bill, Allison Sorensen, said:

When it comes to school choice, I have taught at a private school, I have homeschooled and I currently teach at a Title 1 school.  I am like Farmers Insurance.

I know a thing or two because I've seen a thing or two.

And I have big feelings about this.

I have students whose families are barely hanging on.  Public schools are one place where they get stability and security.  It is the place where they can hope to break the cycle of poverty.  These students, with their struggling and/or dysfunctional families would not be able to afford or manage private school even if they were given $8000.  (Also, I don't think many private schools would accept the ones who are so far behind.)

This bill would just take money away from a group of people who need it the most.  Also, the whole reason we have public schools is because we have decided that educating the general public is better for everyone.  Everyone.  Widening the gap between the haves and have nots isn't better for anyone.

And I also have big feelings about teachers unions.  I get so tired of the rhetoric that is batted around in politics about the big bad teachers union who is only there for a money grab and doesn't care about students, but rather is out to hurt students.

I am part of the teachers union.  The teachers union isn't some inanimate evil entity.  It is teachers.

Here's what the union does:  1) send me notices that I can sign up for life insurance 2) advocate for teachers in the government.

I know all the teachers at my school who are part of the teachers union.  I can 100% guarantee that we are not in it for the money, or even the damn money.

Janelle and I were talking after school about this.  She said, "We know and they know we aren't going to strike.  We care too much about the students.  We wouldn't want to hurt our students."

I wish Allison Sorensen, delightful woman that she seems to be, would come to my school.

I would like her to see the teachers who bring food from home and drop off clothing and gloves and hats for the wellness room.  I would like her to see that every car is in the parking lot well after our contract hours are up.

I would like her to see us sharing ideas to try harder to reach them.  I would like her to see that we don't just say every student is our student.  We actually mean it.

I would like her to see us crying at times because our hearts are breaking over their tough lives that we can't fix.

I would like her to see the smiles on our faces when we welcome them to school.  

Then I would like her to tell me again that we don't care.

Thoughts and prayers

We have a drought.  A historical drought.  Since records are being taken, (a history, if you will) isn't ALL the weather historical?  I don't know.

Anyway.

People around here are praying for rain and snow.  People pray prayers of gratitude when we get rain or snow.  Me too. The governor has even asked us to pray.  (When you live in Utah, part of the governor's drought response can be to get people to pray and I am here for it!)

Here's the thing.

Inside recess.

I know rain and snow are definitely for the greater good.  We need that water.

But inside. Recess.

It is slowly sucking the life-force out of me.  

Maybe we can add strength, endurance, and patience for the teachers to those prayers....

***

The rain and snow we are getting are the remnants of the deluge California is getting.  Braeden and Anna keep losing power.  Braeden said he took an extra pair of pants to his office so he could change when he got there.  It was that wet.

They had church at a funeral home.  A member of their ward owns it and has generators.  Braeden said they only had sacrament meeting and afterward, everyone was going around and checking on each other.

People are pretty great, even when you get a lot of rain...or have inside recess.

Before I get TOO excited

Friday after not getting enough sleep all week, I woke up with a migraine.  I saw an ad for something for 2025 and I honest to goodness thought I probably wouldn't make it that long.

I staggered to school.  I told my students I had a headache and would love it if they would be quiet.  In a shocking turn of events, they weren't.  It was snowing/raining so we had inside recess.  For lunch, I have always opted to still eat in my classroom and keep an eye on my students when we have inside recess, even though I don't have to.  For the first time, I ate in the faculty room with Janelle and the recess aide monitored my class.  I didn't want the noise, noise, noise.

Somewhere along in the afternoon, I started feeling better and feeling better from a migraine is the best feeling in the world.  

I was perked up enough that I made up some games for our grammar lesson. We were talking about adjectives.  We played a guessing game where someone had to think of a noun, then you could only use adjectives to describe it.  If you used a verb, you were out.  

Then we still had a little time so another game.  I said that I'd give a Skittle to them if they could name one adjective about me that no one else had said.  They had lots of ideas.  Curly hair, brown hair, teacher, glasses, smart, kind, funny, caring, tall.  It was starting to go right to my head, especially the tall adjective.  You can't be the shortest in your family and not be a little flattered when someone (who admittedly doesn't know your siblings and is also a child) thinks you're tall.

The next adjective was equally descriptive.  Old.

Yep.  I gave them a Skittle for that one too.  They weren't wrong.

Mrs. Davis

Yesterday I went to the Orem library.  There was torrential rain.  Seriously.  It was like a pineapple express in November in Seattle.  That may not mean anything to you, but when you know, you know.  

I had slipped my glasses in my pocket so I couldn't see very clearly, but someone said, "Mrs. Davis!  Did you have a good Christmas?"

It was disorienting, because at school I'm called Mrs. Davis, but usually not at the Orem library.  It was the mother of one of my former students.  I know her first name.  Does she not know mine?  Weird.

I went to the mall to try to get my watch repaired.  I saw a woman pushing a cleaning cart with one hand and holding onto the hand of her daughter with the other hand.  The daughter looked about 3rd grade age and she looked like maybe she had special needs.  I felt so much admiration for her hardworking mother.  I also felt grateful for free public schools.  I'm grateful children have a safe place to go and learn, especially if their parents have to work.

Then I went to my school.  I spent about three hours in my classroom.  I had left hastily both Thursday and Friday in the last week of school and I had stuff to do.  I organized and filed and changed the decorations and calendar.  I moved desks and reassigned "dot spots," which is where they sit on the floor.

Enoch texted and asked if I was in Utah and I sent him a photo of my desk.

He said, "Christmas break!  Take it easy!"

I replied that it was my basketball, which I knew he'd understand.  They spend hours in the gym, because they know it pays off.

I don't necessarily want to be spending my Christmas break in my classroom, but I want to have spent that time.

Mrs. Davis was looking out for future Mrs. Davis. (And I am finished getting ready now, so I'm home the rest of the week.)

Grateful Friday

Yesterday there was a lot of snow.  I slid right through an intersection by our house on the way to school.  Luckily no one was around to crash into.  No lanes were visible on State Street and everyone was driving around 20 mph.  I don't know which thing was more unusual.

I also don't know what it takes to get a snow day around here.

It just kept snowing and snowing.  We had both recesses inside.  

We had both Christmas sing performances and despite the weather, both were packed houses.  The kids were nervous beforehand and then really happy when they saw their parents or grandparents.  I love that.

I didn't love how naughty all my students were all the live long day.  Christmas sing + inside recess + Christmas in general + their personalities in general.

It was a whole day.

One student got a really significant bloody nose.  Not the same student as last time.  What gives?!?  He was walking around in a panic, splattering blood all over the floor.  I told him to sit down while I grabbed kleenex.  I meant the nearest possible chair.  He walked back to his own chair, splattering more blood.  I pinched his nose and walked with him that way down to the office, while he was holding kleenex to his nose.  The secretary chided me for not putting on gloves.

It had not occurred to me.

I left him in her care and went back to the zoo that sort of looked like a crime scene until the custodians could get there.

As the bell was about to ring for the blessed end of the day, the announcement was made that the district "had not expected so much snow" (you think?) so they needed the teachers to leave as soon as the students did so that the district could plow all the parking lots.

I was hurrying around gathering up things and preparing hastily for the next day.  Braeden called.

He said that Anna's mom had tested positive for Covid.  Braeden, Anna and Eleanor all had Covid a few weeks ago, so they were not worried about getting it, but they wanted to come to our house early (they were going to come Sunday) so Amy could recover.

I'm sad for the Carlsons but happy for us, and also, I wasn't even a little bit ready.  Despite my proclivity to plan, I have 100% been living only day to day.

I was driving home and my mind was spinning about what I could make for dinner.  The day before, Clarissa and I had walked and I told her that I wanted to make good meals when they were visiting, but I wasn't all that great at that.

She said, "You know who is really good at that?  My mom."

Clarissa is not wrong.  I quickly called Marianne for help.  When you need to send a distress call, Marianne is a really good choice.

She said, "OK, will Mark be there?"  I said yes.  "So no gluten....it's too late for a slow cooker....how about a simmer sauce?  Cook chicken thighs and rice and get butter sauce or tikka masala."

I said, "We usually do chicken tikka masala on Christmas Eve.  What else have you got?"

She thought for a few seconds.  "Taco soup."

Yes!

I'm telling you, call Marianne.

I went to the grocery store for taco soup stuff and a whole cart full of other stuff.  I considered my cart looked like Braeden was visiting.  It made me happy.

I hurried home and changed sheets in the guest bedroom, pulled out the baby toys and baby books and high chair.  I cleaned the kitchen and made the soup and got everything ready.

I'm so grateful for have them with us.

This sweet little girl was very tired by the time they got there, but I am so looking forward to time with her!

I'm grateful to have Marianne to tell me what to do.

I'm grateful I had to leave school early (I needed the time!).

I'm grateful for this wonderful season of light.  I'm grateful that we take a little time off from regular life and enjoy each other and holly jolly music and treats.  Mostly, I'm grateful for the birth and life of Jesus Christ.  When I hold that little baby in my arms and know that she's mine forever, I feel such gratitude for our Savior and Heavenly Father.  They make everything that matters to me better.

Delighting me

I went to the chiropractor yesterday after school.  The ladies at the front desk (who are basically my BFFs because I see them so often), asked me if I was "hanging in there."  One of them has a son who is a teacher and they talk to all the teachers who come in.  They know school is crazy town right now.  Crazy town!

I am trying to alter my expectations.  I'm trying to find that sweet spot of enough structure and enough looseness so we all survive and thrive.

And, oh yeah, grades are due on Friday so I'm doing assessments and make-up assessments and this is not the time for assessments.

Yet here we go.

Here are some things delighting me all the same:

1. My team.  I appreciate them.  Sometimes, one of us is braindead (it was me yesterday) and we wander into each other's classroom after school.  Yesterday I went into Miriam's.  She was feverishly grading tests.  "What are you doing during literacy tomorrow?" I asked.  "Just. Tell. Me. What. To. Do."

She handed over a master of a main idea Christmas around the world assignment.  Janelle came in.  I said, "I'm making copies of this.  Do you want some?"

Janelle said yes.  

I hightailed it to the work room and left a stack of warm-from-the-copier papers on Janelle's desk.

Teamwork for the win!

2.  Every day, someone in the class puts an ornament on the tree and there is a number associated with the ornament and an activity or treat associated with the number.  (My mom gave me the idea.)  Yesterday we made snowflakes.

I hung them afterward.

Some of them cut them all alone and some of them needed help.  They all needed help with the folding, but I'm fast so I zipped around folding one at a time.

When I was hanging them up, this one caught my eye:

It is pretty amazing.  You never know what hidden talents someone is going to have and that makes humans just wonderful.

3. I was grading some vocabulary assessments.  They were supposed to write the meaning of the unknown word in the sentence.  The word was scared and a student wrote this as the definition.

Why are apostrophes so hard?!?

Scared means that you're just not ready yet.  That is about the loveliest thing I've heard.  Such a kind view.  Such a hopeful view!

Friends are the gift that keeps giving

Thirty one years ago, we slept a few feet away from each other in a cinder block dorm room.  A computer matched us up in college as roommates, but Erin and I will be friends forever. 

She reads my blog (Hi, Erin!) and texted me awhile ago, asking if she could send gloves to my students.  It was such a kind gesture and meant so much to me!

I said, "Yes!"  I was fully expecting black stretchy gloves, like you see everywhere, but in perfect Erin fashion, she got them very brightly colored gloves that they loved.  

Yesterday, we had a fresh layer of snow.  I assembled my class and I told them about Erin and I said, "She sent you a gift!"  

They were wide-eyed. "What did she send?  What is it?"

I opened the package and showed them the gloves and they cheered and started claiming which color they wanted.  Since it isn't my first rodeo, I picked sticks and they got to choose colors in the order their name was called.  They are used to that routine and everyone got gloves they were happy with.

A few of them switched a glove with friends so they had mismatched pairs, which was very exciting.  They wore them through math.  Here's a little friend skip counting on his fingers, with gloves on.

It delighted me and warmed my heart completely to have someone do something so kind for these students I love.

They are exhausting and maddening and try my patience to no end.

But I love them. And I love Erin for loving them too.

Splat

In another episode of you can't make this stuff up, here's what happened yesterday:

A student who had been gone told me she was gone because she had head lice.  I said, "Do you still have it?"  She said she didn't know.

A BYU professor came to do a demonstration math lesson for the practicum students and third grade teachers.  He taught in my class.  My team and I were wondering 1) how my students would behave and 2) how he would handle it if they behaved "normal" which is anything but.

For the first 20 minutes or so of the lesson, they were angelic and it was weird.  It was also not sustainable for them.

Eventually, a girl lay on the floor under her desk.

A boy started eating paper.  He does that mostly when he's hungry and is trying to make a point.

A boy began removing his fake nails (painted black--I can't explain this) and stacking them on the corner of his desk.

I walked around the room and confiscated an inflated balloon (?), a Pokemon card, two different papers from two different students who were just filling up their pages with scribbling.

I took away the chairs from three students because they were using them in ways both bizarre and dangerous (for example, balancing their feet precariously on a yoga ball and then crouching down and shifting from side to side until you think they are going to crash).

The BYU professor mostly ignored them.  I think he thanked his lucky stars they were my problem and not his.  At one point, he turned to the BYU teachers and said, "The problem with being a teacher is the kids."  It felt kind of mean but kind of true in the moment.

During library, a student had what can only be described as a complete meltdown.  

It was a raucous afternoon.  How is it still so many days until Christmas vacation when they are this amped up?  It didn't help that my classroom was 77 degrees.  I told the custodian and I said, "The thing is that I'm wearing this Christmas sweater."  (And expending a lot of energy trying to survive in there.)

He said, "Maybe you need to dress like it's Christmas on a tropical island."

Maybe.

On the way to P.E., a student had a bloody nose.  An impressive bloody nose.  He was at the end of the line with the BYU teacher and I didn't realize he had dripped drops of blood all down the hall.  I alerted the custodian and took the boy to the nurse's office.

Some days you write about how sweet they are and some days you...don't.

Sweetness

I have a new student and being the new student is hard, but she has had a hard life before she ever became the new student.  

On her second day of school, she went home with a stomach ache.

She was gone for three days.

She came back again yesterday.  A few hours into the day, she complained of a stomach ache again.  I talked to her about how maybe she was feeling anxious.  She agreed that maybe so.  I gave her a pop it to pop and a timer.  She sat at my desk, watching the timer and popping and then she went back to work.

Right before recess, she told me again her stomach hurt.  

I told her we would assess after recess.

I had recess duty and I watched her walk around slowly by herself.

I went and rounded up a few of my rambunctious students who were playing tag.  "Hey, will you invite her to play?"

Three of them stopped what they were doing and walked toward her.  One boy pretended like he was going in slow motion, ramping up energy, then he sped off toward her.

I heard them each ask her if she wanted to play.  She quietly said, "No thank you."

Two other girls, who I hadn't even talked to, came up to her next.  "Do you want to go down the slide with us?" one of them asked.

She softly said no.

The other girl said, "It's fun when it has snow on it.  It's fast!"

"C'mon," said the other girl.  "C'mon!"

And she did.

I could have cried by how much it melted my heart but my face was frozen.  (Recess duty in December....)

In the afternoon, we had a fire drill.  By design, the fire drills are loud and obnoxious.  They blare and lights flash and they straight up terrify some of the kids.  I gave them all a heads up, including get your coats on.  

One little guy is a very gentle soul.  He had headphones on to block noise.  Minutes before the fire drill, they were standing near the door, getting their coats on.

He said, "I'm scared."

I said, "You're OK.  As soon as it starts, we'll go right outside."

His little eyes filled with tears and he said, "I'm really scared, Teacher." He looked up at me and asked softly, because it isn't actually something third graders usually do, "Can I hold your hand?"  

He put his little hand in mine.  The fire alarm went off and we headed outside.  He held my hand all across the blacktop to the soccer field where we line up.  The trust he placed in the security of just holding my hand was a little breathtaking.

What an honor it is to be their person for a few hours every day.

More Christmas

Is there ever too much Christmas?

My mom asked for a picture of the whole tree.  Anything for my dear mother:

Of all the things I failed to teach my children well, decorating a Christmas tree is not one of them.  We build layers and they are good at it.  When Adam tried to hand them an ornament after he had attached a hook, they would say things like, "No Dad, we're just doing red balls now."

Braeden is a little less careful when he is here, but he is tallest and has the biggest motor and those things add a lot of value.  I missed him and Emma did too.  She said her Precious Moments ornament missed Braeden's Precious Moments ornament.  They've been hanging them next to each other on the tree since they were tiny little preschoolers.  Sniff.  

***

Yesterday at school, we had a really great experience.  Our principal, Kristie, called Jason Wright (of The Christmas Jars fame) and was sort of surprised when he answered.  She asked him to come to our school and he said yes.  And he lives in Virginia!  

When she told the leadership team about it, she said, "He is either coming or I am being scammed by someone who I thought was Jason Wright."

He came!

Third through sixth grade assembled in the gym.  He talked to us about the first Christmas jar he did with his family.  He said it gave him the idea for the book.  He showed us a map of where people reported Christmas jars sightings:

There was an audible gasp in the room.  He talked about how if someone was sick or needed extra love or had lost their job, people may want to give them a jar.  One of my students turned to me and exclaimed, "My mom and my stepdad have both lost their jobs before!"

It was relatable, having hard times.

We watched the movie that BYUtv created based on the book.  It was a little cheesy but also good.  It was the right kind of feel good you need on a cold December morning.  There was a teeny tiny bit of kissing and most of my students covered their faces or pulled their shirts up over their eyes.  

The "Hope Squad" in our school had popcorn for the students which made a holy mess, but made the students excited.

It was a great time.  I left the room feeling uplifted and I think they did too.

In the afternoon, for writing time, I had them write their thoughts.  I said they could write their thoughts about the jar idea or the movie or any aspect of it. (I didn't use the word aspect....)

One girl wrote at great length about how it was boring and her chair was hard.  Even a New York Times bestselling author isn't Nutella.  He can't make everyone happy.

Another girl who I can rarely get to do much of anything despite her being pretty smart, wrote two pages about it.  She is one of my sweetest kindest souls, even though she is also pretty naughty.  She was touched by the story and I loved reading her writing about it.

After school, I walked around showing it to anyone who would listen.  Then I hung all their writing up in the hall.

I love Christmas!

Liar liar pants on fire

We share kids for science.  I teach weather (because I love weather) and I am teaching weather to Miriam's class right now.

We talked about extreme weather.  We talked about tornadoes, hurricanes and dust storms.  We talked about where those things are likely to happen.  I showed them maps of tornado alley and talked about how hurricanes happen on the coasts.  I explained that they get their power from warm water.

I asked if they had ever experienced extreme weather like this.

Every hand shot up.

One girl stood in front of the class and used to hands to dramatically explain a time when she and her mom had seen a tornado.  "My mom screamed!  I screamed! But then we realized it was a dust devil."

The rest of the students must have decided they had to do better than that.

"I was in a hurricane once."

"Where?"

"Um.  On the beach.  In Oregon?"

"I don't think so."

They all switched their stories to having happened while they were "on vacation" and they "didn't remember where."

Note to self, never go on vacation with these unlucky kids.  Every vacation it seemed had ended in either a tornado or hurricane.

The pièce de résistance was the student who had been on vacation and the first day was a tornado, the next day was a hurricane and then next day was a wind storm.  It happened long ago, when he was "like 5 years old" and at a forgotten location.

OK, so what you're all saying is that you have never experienced extreme weather like this, but have active imaginations.  Moving on.

Speaking of weather, I had recess duty yesterday.  The longest 15 minutes of my life is recess duty when the temperature is in the 20s.  Brrrrrrr.

We had fresh snow on the ground and no snowballs thrown is a BIG rule.  A second grader, who has gotten in trouble at recess before, was tossing a snowball.  I started toward him and he picked up several more snowballs and tossed them.

"Hey," I called.  (I had forgotten my trusty Fox40 whistle inside.) "Stop throwing snowballs."

"I wasn't!" he said. 

"You were," I said.  "And if you do it again, you'll have to go sit on the bench for the rest of recess."

His friend piped up, "He wasn't throwing snowballs!"

"I saw him," I said.

"I wasn't!" he said again.

"I saw you," I said again. (So much of my life is arguing with recalcitrant children!) "Don't do it again."

"He wasn't throwing snowballs," said the friend again.  "It was a toy."

"A toy?" I didn't believe them.  "Show me."

He pulled a small white round plastic windup toy out of his pocket.  It was the exact size as what I thought was snowballs.

At that point, I had to apologize.  

In my defense, trust issues are an occupational hazard.

Diversionary tactics

It is no surprise that struggling readers don't love to read.  Yesterday I called a small group back to my table so I could listen to them read.

One student tried every trick she could think of.

Me: Come on.  I need you here at my table.

Me: Yes, you.  Come on.

Me: Get a stool.

Me: Sit down.

Me: No, don't tilt.

Me: Stop spinning.  Get your book.

Student: I don't know what page we're on.

Me: This page. (smoothing book open and pointing) Right here.

Me: I want to hear your voice too. You need to read.

Student: Where are we?

Me: (pointing) Right here.

Student: Wait.

Me: What?

Student: (pointing at my head) Are those natural curls?

Me: Yes.

Student: (closing her eyes like she's transported) Because they are beautiful!

Me: (pointing to the page) OK.  Now you need to read.

Student: (sighing deeply) Fine.

Math

Two thirds of my class are boys, and those boys are busy and active and sort of wild.  As in, if I turn my back, they all start wrestling.  It's crazy and takes all of my energy to bridle theirs.

I've started doing a few minutes of mindfulness several times during the day.  Activity brain breaks amp them up and we don't need that.  I turn off the lights and tell them to put their heads on their desks and close their eyes.  They mostly do, but they pop up every few seconds.  I play meditation music.  I created a whole playlist.

Friday morning, first thing, I had them calm.  I talked to them gently over the music and told them to think about how they wanted to feel at the end of the day.  I told them to think about whether they wanted to know they were kind and had done their best.  Did they let their bodies be in charge, or their brains be in charge?

Everyone was serene.  All was quiet on the western front.  I turned on the lights and we started in on math.  I felt really good about the climate in the room.

It was going to be a good day!

Suddenly, the quietest shy little girl in the front, positioned strategically between two boys, threw up in her hands.  She looked at me, frozen in panic.  I grabbed the garbage can and brought it to her.  I asked, "Do you need to throw up more?"

She just stared at me, motionless, paralyzed with the trauma of it all I guess.

The rest of the class was not motionless.  The boy next to her, who she'd thrown up on, went over to the sink and started cleaning his leg, which in retrospect seems really mature of him.  Kids started yelling that now they were going to throw up.  The boy on the other side of her slid his desk across the room.

Picture bedlam and then add chaos.  That was the scene.  I sent the poor little girl to the bathroom and told her to wash her hands and face.

I tried to settle things down.  I opened my outside door and my hall door.  We needed airflow.

I pushed the button to call for help from the office.  I sent my sturdiest girl to the bathroom to check on the sick student.

She came back and said, "She's in the stall but she wouldn't answer me."

So I left the mayhem in no one's hands and went to the bathroom.  I coaxed her out of the stall and asked her if she needed to throw up more.  She shook her head, so I guided her out into the hall.  I was met with Julie, an administrator, who had a little throw up bag like you find in the seat pockets of planes.  I said, "Can you take her?"

She said yes and I squared my shoulders and went back into my classroom.

I gave the boy whose leg was thrown up on (luckily he was wearing shorts) an alcohol wipe.

I put wet paper towels on the carpet.

I regained control and told them that if they ever needed to throw up, they didn't need to ask permission, just go to the bathroom or the garbage.

I reassured the ones that still thought they may throw up, that we had fresh air in the classroom and we were all going to be just fine.

A few minutes later, Riley, the head custodian, came in with a guy from the district.  He said, "Are you too warm in here?"

He was puzzled by the open doors.

I told him someone had thrown up.  I said, "Isn't that why you're here?"

He said, "Oh, I heard that had happened, but then I was told it was fine."

It wasn't fine.

He went and got another custodian who came in with a big carpet cleaner and then he and the guy from the district started measuring my cabinets because I am getting new ones (hurray!) because the ones I have are bowed so badly with water damage that the doors don't stay closed.

I doggedly kept trying to do math.

What else was I going to do?

If you ever want an exciting life, teach elementary school.  That is my takeaway.